


Mindless

by gladiatorAviator



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Armin Arlert Appreciation Week, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Gen, Manga Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 21:20:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11343393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gladiatorAviator/pseuds/gladiatorAviator
Summary: Holes filled his memories; the only thing he was able to recall was unintelligible sounds, bright lights, the color green flanking white and blue. Figures, shapes that moved too quick in the sky. Heat. Searing heat. Water, full of salt. Saltwater shouldn’t make any sense, because, because...





	Mindless

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for chapters 82-84. Spoken dialogue was mostly lifted straight from the manga. Thank you for reading!

“Have I ever lied to you, Eren?”

A fabrication. Armin knew the instance he created his plan that he would die. A sacrifical pawn, a last-ditch effort to win the game. A pawn could only do so much. But, without that lie, Eren would never agree to it. He had already fumbled, words spilling out of his mouth, eyes wide and wild, shoulders shaking. Had Eren looked closer, he could have picked out the signs. 

No matter. Eren was sated for now, and they could continue the plan. Eren stumbled forwards, Armin’s stomach lurching as he watched him fall off the Wall. He turned his full attention to the Colossal Titan in front of him.

That terrible, ripped out grin would be the last thing he faced before dying. 

Bertholdt lashed out at him, the impact of his arm hitting the Wall making Armin fly off the edge. _Just as suspected,_ Armin thought, sparing a glance at Eren below before engaging his gear. Steel wires made a sickening crunch into Titan flesh. A push of a trigger, compressed air sending him skyward. He spun up and around, quickly disconnecting his anchor once he reached the apex, steam hissing furiously around him as he redirected the anchors into Bertholdt’s teeth.

Armin met Bertholdt’s eyes, galling him. He took the bait, a bright flash blinding Armin for a few thundering heartbeats, his breath rasping in his throat as burning steam enveloped him. His body flew backwards, his heart skipping a beat as he was caught on his wires. 

Even still, he stared Bertholdt down. He wasn’t a coward. He would stare death right in its face, hanging on until the bitter end, each precious second he held on another second for Eren to complete his part of the plan, for them to win. 

Another flash, more steam, more blistering heat. His body screamed at him to let go, to escape, arms raised and eyes squinted in a weak attempt to protect himself. His throat was raw from the scorching air he breathed, his clothes beginning to disintegrate in the heat, his skin nothing but a thin, broiling layer of weak membrane protecting weaker organs. 

_Not yet. I have to buy more time!_

It was all he could do to hang on to scalding metal triggers when Bertholdt released his final blow. All his nerves howled in agony, his skin crisping black and steel wires vaporizing in the intense heat. What was left of him was launched backwards, unable to feel the air that was surely rushing around him. Only one thought able to float past the sea of black that enveloped his dying body, his decaying consciousness. 

_He’ll see the ocean for me._

Impact.

Black.

\---

He felt--no, he was... Something. Something different. 

He was something else before, though. Right?

Something else, once before. The thought slipped through him like sand in fingers. He tried to grasp harder at the grainy memories, unable to catch a single one.

Who was he? Did he even have a name? What was his name? Who _was_ he?

He opened his eyes, the tops of broken rooftops and scattered debris meeting them. Something inside of him ripped in twain, an unknown pang hitting him. This should make him feel sad. He should feel sad. Right? Isn’t that was that was?

A roar of frustration escaped his throat. Holes filled his memories; the only thing he was able to recall was unintelligible sounds, bright lights, the color green flanking white and blue. Figures, shapes that moved too quick in the sky. Heat. Searing heat. Water, full of salt. Saltwater shouldn’t make any sense, because, because...

Too fast, the memories deteriorated into dust, whisking away on the wind, gone.

No, no, there was a way to recover them. Recover them. Recover them how? 

Everything felt too heavy, too slow, as he raised his head. Figures, far away. Those same ones in the sky. There was something about them, something that held the memories he was too quickly losing. He felt a hunger--no, an insatiable desire--to consume them. They held what remained of him. That much he was certain of. He could feel that knowledge burn through him, coursing in his veins, a powerful instinct that drowned out what other little thoughts occupied him. He had to consume them. It was inside one of them. One of them held the things that were just out of his reach.

He lurched forward, hissing steam when a house blocked his way. He needed to keep going. They held his secrets. He needed to rip his memories out of them, devour them and bring what remained back to him. Wood crunched beneath his hands as he continued his assault forward, stone crumbling down around him. He needed to keep moving forward. Those figures could leave soon. He needed to catch them before they left.

Why were they so far away? Unconscious knowledge told him that they should be fleeing. But they didn’t. Why? Why were they watching?

His hands grasped something besides wood and stone. It felt warm, alive. _This thing was different._ He raised it up to eye level to inspect it. He felt a spark inside of him, forgotten experience telling him that the thing in his hand was the same as the figures in the distance, even though this one seemed to be missing parts. This one could be hoarding his past mind. 

Thoughts lived in the head, ergo it felt only right to start eating it from there. He cracked the skull open in his teeth, the pathetic noises coming from it stopping abruptly. Good. They were too loud and shrill. Images flashed past him, but the memories were still too fuzzy to make out. 

Feelings lived in the heart. Another sickening crunch, blood running down his hands and chin. Of course, thoughts were nothing without feelings behind them. How could he have forgotten that? Different ones unraveled in his heart, some carrying clearer images with them. Fear and despair, staring desolate at a common shingled roof, screams of the dying surrounding him. Certain people, faces blurred, his heart jumping in delight at seeing them. Resolution, facing a skinless beast with too-wide teeth, hands gripping... something. A pang of sorrow, coupled with the feeling that he was betraying a promise, that he could never see the water with salt.

Still, the memories felt too flat. Like a lifeless drawing, one snapshot of an event. He must have done something with those feelings.

Drive lived in the legs. He swallowed what was left of the creature he held. Feelings meant nothing if there was no way to carry them out. Despair and fear melted into confidence and determination, full of fleeting words to save his friend. Coming to a realization, brimming with a plan to spare the lives around him. A sense of finality, pushing away all of his sorrows and fighting with every last hope in his body.

He was still missing something.

Who _was_ he?

His body suddenly felt too tall, his limbs filled with lead and a feeling of absolute _wrongness_ constricting his heart. Knees collapsed, but the impact of his head falling to the ground did not bring pain. He could only feel a small section on the back of his neck, the rest of his body nothing but a strange apparatus, him and not-him at the same time. Heat sweltered around him.

This body, this _thing,_ wasn’t him at all.

Muscles were melded to his arms and legs, pulling him taut. They creeped up into slits on his cheeks, below his eyes. The tendrils seemed to infiltrate his brain and hijack his consciousness, replacing what he should feel in his human form with this monstrous frame, teeth poised to consume the knowledge that he didn’t belong in such a body, that he was _human._

Recollection slammed into him, all of his locked memories releasing like a broken dam.

His name was Armin Arlert. 

He was one of the few survivors of Shiganshina, along with Eren and Mikasa, his best friends, his family. They fought side by side, a dance of perfect harmony. Shiganshina was where he was currently located, ruins of his past life surrounding him, fighting monsters that were once comrades. Heat had surrounded him in its jaws, snapping shut and swallowing the fragile flame they called life. 

He was supposed to be dead.

Armin could hardly process the hiss of steam filling his ears, his mind supplementing that it should be hot, that he should be feeling something. The body he was connected to started to dissolve around him, bringing a strange sensation of him shrinking, ribs snapping out of place, vision blackening as cold air washed down his bare back, hardly recognizing the voices around him as hands lifted him out of his collapsed position.

Time stuttered, shifting with a shock of adrenaline as it became unbalanced. It scattered through Armin’s fingers, each drip that made its way through carrying away what little he remembered after his battle with Bertholdt. Soon enough, nothing remained of that time, filtered through his hands like water searching and squeezing its way out of the cracks.

Consciousness seeped back into him, calling nerves to attention, stoking his mind back to work. Hard stone met his back, digging into his hips as he sat up. His hands were clutching a soft blanket, his legs wrapped up in its warmth. He was still stuck in the dark--had night already fallen?--his head still foggy from... whatever had happened. 

Reflections lit up the dark, curving into a skeletal grin, muscles wrapped only on the left side, sinew holding a terrible grin taut, disappearing as it neared the right side of its face, into valleys of black dipped around mountains of white, nothing but bones holding up the right side. Steam rose up around it, hissing menacingly, the Titan’s single eye holding all of Armin’s attention.

_The Colossal Titan._ Armin froze, unable to move. He held Bertholdt’s gaze, wide eyed. The chipped rocks beneath his hand dug into his palm, and he curled reflexively around it, fingers looking for maneuver triggers. Steam gently pushed his hair back, spilling onto the floor, the gas rolling forward in a lazy manner. The blackness surrounding it began to lighten, a blue sky framing its skull, ruined houses peeking out of stone rubble beyond. A small section of the Wall jutted out in front of him, as if beckoning him to stand up and walk towards the monstrosity before him. Still, he held his gaze.

_Wait. Are those... tears?_ Armin could feel himself locking up in surprise. Tears slipped out of half-finished ducts, the liquid gleaming between grooves of muscle. _Why is he crying?_

A moan sounded beside him. Armin ripped his gaze from the Titan, jolting as he noticed Sasha on the ground next to him, burns covering a good portion of her face. “Sasha?” _Why is she up here? We’re in danger!_

Armin turned back to face Bertholdt, but the Titan fizzled out of his view, only a nightmarish apparition. _Am I dreaming?_ Armin asked himself as he scooted towards Sasha, lifting up her blanket to assess the burns. She was in terrible shape, sections of skin glistering bruise-white, others showing ripped and cauterized layers of angry red where it had burned off. Did he forget how she got those injuries? He couldn’t seem to remember anything after the battle had started.

Hurried footsteps sounded behind him. Impulse whipped Armin’s head around, a breath catching in his throat as he saw Eren running towards him, his face bearing an expression of shock, his steps slowing the track of time. His mouth was parted, as if he wanted to speak but his breath had escaped him. 

Armin had never seen such a look on Eren’s face. “Eren? What’s--” he was interrupted as Eren all but threw himself over him, arms grasping him like a drowning man struggling for purchase, his breathing desperate and cold as it touched Armin’s neck. He could hear Eren’s breath catch, then break into shaking heaves, tears slipping off of his face, his body melting in relief. He opened and closed his mouth multiple times, unable to get words out. He swallowed, suppressing his uneven breaths as he pulled Armin closer to him.

“Welcome back,” Eren breathed, burying his head into Armin’s shoulder. “Welcome back.”


End file.
